2:47 AM — Abandoned Dock Warehouse, Outskirts of Busan
Chains clinked softly in the silence. Blood pooled beneath the man hanging from the ceiling, his body broken, his cries no longer sounding human. The air reeked of rusted iron and fear soaked into the concrete walls.
Taehyung stood still—knife in one hand, glass of wine in the other.Not a single drop stained his immaculate sleeves.
His gaze was steady. Detached. Unreadable.
"Third time I'm asking," he demanded, his voice smooth and slow, laced with venomous calm. "Who. Sent. You?"
The man could barely whimper now, lips too swollen, words lost to pain.Taehyung exhaled, disappointed.
"I hate wasting time."
He stepped forward—each footfall echoing like a death toll. Every movement deliberate. Inevitable.
A predator in a tailored suit.
"I don't enjoy this," he murmured, crouching low, meeting the man's broken eyes. "I don't get off on pain. I'm not that kind of monster."
He tilted his head slightly.
"But I do believe in consequences."
Then came the blade.Not deep—just enough to drag out a scream.
Jimin – his secretary, stood at a distance, silent and still. No one spoke while Taehyung worked. This was more than violence.
This was discipline.
Art.
When the screams finally fell quiet, Taehyung rose and wiped the blade with a silk handkerchief, his face impassive.
"Tell your boss this—" he shouted flatly. "If he lays a finger on my territory again, I won't just cut off limbs."
"I'll erase his entire bloodline."
With that, he turned and walked into the freezing night.The spark of a lighter flickered, and a cigarette touched his lips.He looked up at the moon—but his thoughts were far from the stars.
They were with her.
And somewhere deep in his chest, he felt it—the sharp edge of a warning carried on the wind:
" If they were already moving, it means she wasn't safe . Not anymore. "
_____
At– Mr. Lee's house
(Author's POV)
The late-morning sun slipped quietly through sheer curtains, casting soft streaks of gold across the stillness of the room. Outside, the city moved on—its noise reduced to a distant murmur, muffled behind thick walls and closed windows. Inside, everything held a fragile, deceptive calm.
The bedroom was small and warm, touched gently by light that tiptoed across tangled sheets. A digital clock blinked 9:56 AM in quiet red on the nightstand. The bed was messily made, the comforter dragged halfway down, pillows scattered like the remnants of a restless night.
In the center of it all, a figure slept soundly—curled on her side, face half-buried in the pillow, lips parted in deep, dreamless slumber. Her breathing was soft. Steady. Unbothered.
The door creaked open.
A figure slipped in, moving with practiced quiet. She made her way toward the bed, her voice low, gentle.
"Selen... wake up," she murmured.
Oh , It was Elira. Selen's older sister.
Selen barely stirred. Her brow twitched as she turned over with stubborn grace, hugging the pillow tighter—like it might somehow keep the world at bay a little longer.
Elira leaned down and gently shook her shoulder.
"Selenahh... come on, wake up. It's already ten."
At that moment, the door opened again and another figure stepped inside—Nyra, Selen's best friend. She paused at the foot of the bed, eyes narrowing at the scene in front of her.
"Good morning, eonnie," Nyra wished softly.
Elira didn't return the greeting so much as exhale it, her tone taut beneath its sweetness.
"Morning isn't good, honey. How are you feeling?"
There was warmth in her voice, but also tension—coiled tightly and barely restrained.
"You're right," Nyra whispered. "It's not good at all. My mind keeps going back to last night. What if they find us?!"
Her voice cracked under the weight of fear, falling into a whisper as her eyes flicked to Selen's sleeping face.
"I didn't even sleep... and this bitch—she's out here sleeping like a princess in a romance novel. Unbelievable."
She shook her head and shot Elira a look, her lips twitching in faint disbelief.
From beneath the covers, a muffled groan broke the silence.
"Hey... stop making so much noise in the morning."
Elira folded her arms tightly."Oh really? Morning? It's almost lunchtime, you sleepyhead."Her voice lost its softness, replaced by concern.
"Honestly, Selen, how can you sleep so peacefully after what happened last night?"
Nyra rolled her eyes, dramatic as ever.
"She's probably dreaming about that perfect fictional man from one of her books," she muttered.
Selen slowly sat up, eyes heavy with sleep, lashes fluttering as she blinked at the two of them. Confused. Groggy. Still somewhere between dreams and memory.
"How could you sleep so well, Mrs. Byeon?" Nyra demanded, her voice sharp yet teasing. "I couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them. The men. The blood..."
Selen's heart skipped a beat at the name 'Mrs. Byeon'. Who wouldn't be ?it's her crush's surname.
But then–
Her eyes widened.The memories came crashing back.A chill crawled down her spine, her body stiffening under the weight of it all. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.
"Yeah... last night," she whispered softly, voice trembling. "I don't know how I fell asleep. Maybe I was just... exhausted from running. From that damn alley. It was... it was horrible. I can still smell the blood."
Her hands began to tremble as the room went still again.No one spoke.
Fear lingered in the air, thick and choking.And though the sun continued to shine outside, inside—
Morning had never felt darker. The only one thought lingered in their heads.
" what if .....what if they find us ?!!!"
______♡______
Well well...
I'm curious...what do you think they saw last night?" 🤔